


Ghosts In My Closet

by Twinings_Peppermint



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: A LOT of Angst, AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Attempted Suicide (multiple), Diego Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Diverts at s1 ep8, Drunken Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, Its really not, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, M/M, Pretty much everyone comes up in this, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Tag As I Go, Tags May Change, not as dark as it sounds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 22:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17927750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twinings_Peppermint/pseuds/Twinings_Peppermint
Summary: Allison manages to bring back Vanya. Following this, Klaus goes off the radar for three weeks and Diego finds him. Shit goes down.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy! This is my first proper fanfic. This gets less shitty as it goes along, I promise. Also Prologue was more just to introduce the AU.

“Vanya? Is that you?” Allison called into the dim-lit dark.  
The cabin was.. Disturbed, lights swinging to the rhythm of a fine tuned violin, whistling on the mourning wind.  
“Vanya, there you are. What is going on?”  
The sharp sound of the violin stopped the wind subduing and the house coming to a still.  
“What are you doing here?” Vanya spun round, annoyance painted clear on her face.  
“I came to find you. Are you okay?”  
“….. Yeah…”

“I’ve been so worried, Vanya. We all have.” She stepped forward, looking at Vanya in a state euphoric relief. The wind picked up again, this time sounding less like a pained melody. Crickets joined the ensemble.

“There’ something… weird going on. What’s causing it?s  
Vanya visibly swallowed, looking worried.

“It’s okay, you can tell me.” Allison took another step forward, talking as if Vanya was a frightened animal.  
“Me.” came the single-worded response. Allison’s face twisted into obvious confusion.  
“What do you mean ‘me’? As in..?” Allison looked confused, sure, but now had a level of uncertainty. Doubt, even.  
“Yeah, I mean… I made those things happen.”Allison looked around the house in disbelief- and then back at her sister. If she says she has powers, than she has powers. Go on. Be a good sister for once in your life.  
“That’s…”  
Vanya didn’t hold her breath waiting for her sister’s approval. Things were different now.  
“Amazing Vanya. That you have powers.”  
Vanya was… apprehensive. But she knew her sister was trying. Her sister was trying and that’s what mattered.

”Turns out I’ve had them all this time. It’s weird, huh?”  
“It’s-It’s incredible, Vanya.”  
She’s trying Vanya. Let her try.

But..?” She found the words slipping out of her mouth.

“Can we please talk in the car?”  
She looks scared Vanya, but not of you. What is it?  
“What is it?”

 

“You- this might…”  
Come on Allison. You don’t want to hurt her. You love her.  
“This isn’t something I can tell you without hurting your feelings.”  
“That’s never-”  
“I know I’ve been insensitive before Vanya, but please-”  
The house began to shake again.  
She’s apologizing Vanya.  
“I lo-”  
“Don’t.”  
A long moment of silence passed between the two before everything was still.  
“You are special, Vanya. You always have been.”  
Vanya opened her mouth up to speak, but Allison kept on talking.  
“Regardless of your powers, Vanya. I hope you can forgive me. Forgive us all. Now please, get in the car.”  
“Why?”  
Why are you still so scared?”

“Vanya? You there?” Leonard’s voice echoed through the archway.  
“Come on, we’ve got to go!” Allison sounded more urgent.  
She’s scared of him.  
“Who’s that?” Leonard was closer.  
“Vanya, he isn’t the man you think he is.”

“Oh. Hello. You again.” Leonard was now standing a few feet in front of Allison.  
Vanya met Allison’s pleading eyes with her own stormy ones. She looked back at Leonard.  
“What’s she saying?” she asked, demand in her voice.

“I- I don’t know.”  
“You do know.”  
“I really, really don’t-”  
“DON’T LIE TO ME.”  
The room shook once more, but this time violently, as if it were about to collapse in on itself.  
The roof crumbled, some of the roof falling behind Leonard. Instinctively he moved out of the way, boxing himself in with the other two.  
Allison took a defensive position. Be careful. He’s dangerous.  
“I’m sorry Vanya, I really am.”  
Leonard lurched forward, almost falling as he pinned Allison down. “Leonard she’s not an enemy. She’s my sister.” Vanya was confused. Leonard was the love (?) of her life. And they had met before. Had Allison done something threatening she didn’t know about? If so, when? And why?  
“How do you know she’s not a threat, Vanya?”  
“Because she’s my sister!”  
“But she could be here for the rest of the family, Vanya. For your powers. You can’t trust them, Vanya.”  
“Vanya, please…” Allison replied from her seemingly helpless position under Leonard. Why isn’t she moving?  
“Come on, Vanya. Kill her.”  
“What!?”  
“Kill her. I know you can do it.”  
“I can’t kill my sister!”  
“It won’t be difficult. Look.”  
Leonard moved his body ever so slightly to give Vanya a better view of a Pocketknife hilted in the bleeding flesh of her Sister’s thigh.  
“Get off of her!”  
The house shook, imbued with rage. Shattered glass shrapnel flew into the house, a powerful Gale roaring through the house.  
“If you Kill me, you kill her, Vanya,” Leonard warned, malicioun creeping into his voice.  
Allison was fading, her eyes rolling back into her skull. What’s taking you so long, Vanya? Kill him. Unless you want her dead.  
“I’m-I’m sorry, Leonard.”  
Sharp bits of wood flew through the air, impaling multiple times. Blood pooled below him and in stains on his clothes. It dripped down his lips and chin- his clouded over eyes burning a place in Vanya’s memory. Hurt. Betrayal.  
She pushed Leonards limp corpse away from a now unconscious Allison, scooping her body up close to her. Bitter tears pooled in her eyes as she walked out of the house, as wailing winds collapsed the house in on itself.  
The car journey home was long, and filled with constant breaks to check on Allison’s wound and for her to wipe her eyes and steady her hands. Allison took over driving halfway through, not too long after she had gotten back up. Vanya sobbed in the back.  
Home was.. Interesting. The apocalypse didn’t come, of course, but things were tense. In the end, (after a few days of solitude) it was decided that they would help Vanya get proper control of her powers and that the whole team (or, family) would be there for her. For once.  
Vanya stood in the center of the room, the rest in a circle around her. No pressure.  
It took a few attempts, but after a few false scratchy tune-ups and start-agains, a loud, bellowing echo shook the very foundations of the home.  
“Okay, now reign it in, Vanya,” Luther cautioned seeming far more reserved than his usual over-confident, egotistical leader persona. The sound reverberated and condensed into the room they were in, the sound becoming louder and sharper, like needles piercing the air.  
Vanya began to glow.  
“Okay, that’s enough Vanya. You can stop now!” Luther shouted over the high-pitched noise. The ceiling, exactly like the cabin, began to cave in.  
“LOOK OUT!” Luther boomed, throwing himself over Allison. Five ran, trying to go through space. He ended up in the bath.  
Diego tried to run through the door, only to be taken out by a stray rock; Klaus just in front of him. Klaus grabbed Diego’s falling arm, trying to save them both. They wouldn’t make it- they were going to be crushed- Klaus shut his eyes, and-  
Ben grabbed both of them and dragged them through to the next room, to safety.  
“How did you-” Klaus stared up at Ben from his face-planting position on the rugged oak planks. “I don’t know.” Ben looked equally as shocked.  
Diego, however, who had probably had severe carpet burn on his face, quickly came to. His body is a temple. “You-” he let out a raspy, hoarse cough, “You saved me.”  
“Yeha, guess I did.” Klaus nodded in reply.  
“Really?” came the ghosts quip.  
“Like they’d actually believe me.” Klaus eyed him up and down before turning to a half-conscious Diego.  
“Guess this means you owe us.”  
He brushed himself off and tried to heave Diego up.


	2. 3 weeks Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theze are my boiz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clues in the name of the Chapter! Hope you likey! This ones short.

Diego had had a long evening to say the least. Patch’s- Eudora’s- funeral was yesterday, and he had gone today to mourn her. He didn’t want to interrupt her family.  
He wondered if, maybe, one day they would’ve all sat down for a Sunday roast together. Her ringed hand entwining with his under the table. Her uniform would’ve been changed for some form of casual clothing. Maybe kickass leather with pumps and a jacket, or maybe a soft not sweater. Like the ones Mother use to make. No, scratch that, it would’ve been one that Mother had made- for their engagement. Eudora came around the weekend prior and had hit it off with Grace. They would’ve talked, and she would’ve accidentally stayed the night. But that was fine, because she would be served Mother’s eggs and orange juice for breakfast, in bed. Eudora would go to work, as usual, and maybe they’d have a kid or two that Diego would look after. He’d be a good Dad. He’d take advice from Grace and she’d send them tacky Christmas sweaters every year. 

He felt tears pricking his eyes. He wouldn’t cry. Not now. He was stuck in traffic on the way back to his shitty little basement, alone to just do whatever the fuck he wanted. Probably brood or some shit. He just… felt so fucking tired. He looked at himself in the rear-view mirror. God, what had happened to his whole ‘body is a temple’ crap? Sure, his abs were still rock-like as ever, all he had been doing was lifting weights and punching the ever loving shit out of anything that he saw. But his eyes were highlighted by eye bags so black, he almost looked like he was wearing eye shadow. He let out a heavy sigh.  
He got home about an hour later, practically falling through his apartment door. He turned the lights on, and proceeded to strip down into his underwear, falling onto his punching bag. He'd collapsed, body completly given up. He woke up about an hour later, sitting upright almost immediately, body shocked into consciousness. A cold sweat had broken out across his body, and had accumulated onto the floor below him. He didn’t remember whatever dream he was having; it was probably for the best.  
He peeled himself of the floor. He had left his boxing gloves on a new black leather sofa he had gotten the week prior. He hauled himself over to begin his nightly routine: hit shit, pass out some more, hit shit, and then get to work.  
At this point, he slept on the sofa more than he did his bed.

At about three, he set out for a jog. He figured it would clear his mind- with him, he brought a walkie-talkie belonging to the local police dep. He’d probably be able to jog their faster than they could respond. Often, he’d just take it if he was overly exhausted or just needed a break- not that he’d eve tell anyone that. What kind of hero had the night off?  
After about two hours of relaxed jogging, (in tow with some rather light thinking, thank fuck) static came through the radio:  
“There’s been a tip off about a body. Probably a Junkie or whatver dumbshit again judging from the description. Fuck. This wasn’t the first time he’d ever heard one like this but it didn’t get easier with time.  
“Description requested.” Came a different voice.  
“Black hair- messy- weird ass leather pants and a ‘hot pink feather boa’, apparently. Maybe a pimp then." “Location? We’ll send someone over if we can.”  
“An alleyway somewhere. Non-specified-“  
He didn’t need to hear anymore. He raced over at maximum speed. He had another hour or so if he was lucky, the department stopped giving two about cases like this recently- there had been so many.  
He searched about three dingy alleyways before stumbling upon an unconscious body, with pills in its hand and eyes rolled back. Fucking Klaus. His hair was marginally longer, seemed more unkempt. His coat usual black coat was nowhere to be seen and it looked like he had fallen from a slight height. How he wasn’t bleeding to death was an enigma. Much like the man himself. 

He attempted to pick Klaus up- he was a lot lighter than he remembered. Shit. No car. He’d have to carry him back. He didn’t have much time. He swung Klaus’ body onto his back in attempt to give his limp body a piggy back. He leant forward as he ran – making the task of securing a completely unresponsive Klaus to his back ever so slightly easier. Still fucking difficult though- he looked like a ninja out of those weirdass Japanese cartoons he’d watch with Klaus and Ben when they were younger- he briefly wondered if Klaus even remembered those.  
He had been different lately- more sober and dry than not. No one else had seemed to take much notice. I mean, he felt bad, but Klaus was Klaus. He probably congratulates himself enough over it- no one else really needed to it. Klaus was, in Diego’s mind, completely different to him. He was self-assured, a male that didn’t need to be masculine to be a man. Envy wasn’t the first thing that came up when he thought of Klaus, it was usually a sense of loneliness (when had he gotten so used to him being around?) or some sort of worry for the Druggy. But yes, sometimes seeing Klaus so free just rubbed him up the wrong way.  
“Hey Diego… you sure look gooddd…”  
And somehow, as he was pulling Klaus’ body across his to carry him bridal style, it was an odd sense of warmth and relief.  
Diego put Klaus down onto his bed. He had started mumbling almost right after he had spoken earlier. It was incoherent- just a stream of babbles.  
Diego gently detached Klaus’s clinging hands from his tracksuit. Klaus was covered in sweat and mostly likely had just passed out. If he had OD’d it’s be obvious. Right? The pills were probably just his usual dose. Why though? He had been doing so well. He’d talk to Klaus in the morning. Now, he’d try and sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to hear your opinions on this shitfest! It will get better I promise.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have a personal agenda against sleep.

He woke with a start, yet again, but his time to the sound of muffled screams. Fuck, was he ever going to be able to actually sleep? Where was the noise ev-  
Klaus. Fucking Klaus. He was screaming, most of it muffled into the pillow.

“Klaus. Klaus, hey bud.”  
“Wake up bud, come on.”  
He stood over Klaus’ body, wiping the haze of sleep from his eyes. Klaus didn’t stir.  
He shook the lump of Klaus’ sleeping form with haphazardly with his free hand.  
“No! No please! Leave me alone…” Klaus had rolled over and was no choking in his own tears.  
“What? No Klaus it’s just me.” He raised his voice, urgency clear.  
“No please…” he cried, barely audible.  
“Klaus!”  
On cue, Klaus shot up, immediately curling into himself, running both his hands through his sweat-drenched hair as he continued to sob.  
Diego sort of just... stood there. This was weird. He had experience with nightmares but what the fuck was this? The Vietnam thing again?  
“Hey, um..”  
Klaus’ bloodshot eyes swivelled round, travelling up Diego’s body to meet Diego’s own.  
“What..” Klaus started struggling over his words.  
“You… passed out. I found you and brought you home with me. You were in some alleyway or something.” 

Klaus stone grey eyes seemed to turn to daggers for a split second before freezing over.  
“Well... that’s fortunate I suppose.”  
“What were you doing? I mean, out so late. You had pills.” Diego folded his arms and stiffened his face. He was still in his boxers.  
“Well, pray tell dear Diego, what were you doing out so late?”  
“None of your business.”  
Klaus swung his legs around; he was now sitting facing Diego with his legs crossed. His pupils were still dilated and his whites almost fully red. An occasional sniffle came out of him.  
“Yes, but it is rather weird, don’t you think?”  
“Uh-huh.” The defensiveness was laced in his tone.  
“I mean, you were out jogging at what I can only presume must have been what? Two in the morning?”  
Diego didn’t respond. This was weird for Klaus. Not the dodging the question bit. No, not that, but certainly with this level of secrecy.  
“Rough night?”  
Klaus’ eyes narrowed. He could the tint of anger in Diego’s eyes, indicating he had hit it right on the mark. Diego would probably kick him out or something, but that was for the better.  
“Look. Just. I’m tired, okay? So I’m gonna sleep. You do too.”  
Well shit, that clearly didn’t work. Just go. He won’t care.  
“Well then, I’ll leave you to it. Auf Wiedersehen!” (// Al-veder-zane)  
Klaus jumped up, bee lining for the stairs- what he didn’t expect, however, is the firm hand that grabbed him by the colour in a cartoon-like fashion. He stopped, surprised. Diego had never stopped him from leaving before.  
Maybe he cares.  
He never cares.  
He left Klaus to be tortured for however the fuck long- too long- while he dicked around. He didn’t even notice Klaus was gone; he knew he wouldn’t. Didn’t make it any easier. But Ben’s always around- Ben’s the one who cared and Klaus knew it. But where is he now?  
“Klaus, where are you even going to go? The house is a danger zone and you’re out of rehab.”  
His fingers itched for a joint. Or a pill or two. Or both, now there’s an idea.  
“I don’t- pills or a smoke or something.”  
The smoke, the light headedness. You’ve got a banging headache.  
“Yeah. Fine, go. But if you pass out again, or whatever, don’t expect me to find you this time.”  
Klaus practically jumped out of Diego’s grip. He was still feeling from those pills earlier- put sleep wasn’t exactly a particularly nice experience at the best of times. Diego didn’t care and he was fine with that. He was used to it. But- it had to be said-  
“Danke! Liebe dich!”  
He didn’t want Diego to find him, but he had carried him home- to his home, not the little dollhouse for dear old daddy’s play things- but his home- and taken care of him. Hell, he even put him on the bed.

Well, it was official. Just three hours after Deigo let him out, Klaus was high, shitfaced and fuck knows where. I mean, he knew he was on a rather tall bridge, but there was no one or anything around it; extremely weird. Klaus didn’t give it a second thought. He had found what he was looking for, which was a rather tall bridge, and had a bottle of something in his hand. It could have been Vodka- whiskey maybe. They all tasted the same at that point.  
He struggled up the bars to the top of the structure. Klaus stood on the edge of the bridge, looking down at the river far below him- and free fell into the frozen depths.  
-  
“Klaus? Klaus!”  
Shit. What were you thinking, letting him go? I didn’t mean to, I just… You just what? Fine, I’m sorry. Just shut for a second, would you?  
Diego had realised a bit too late he had probably made a mistake. Klaus had been doing well, so why was he suddenly back to his old ways? And so suddenly. He needed to go after him. So you’re playing hero again? I’m trying to be a brother. Sure. You aren’t just some lonely depressed bastard who is so insecurely masculine he likes to dress up and play hero craving social contact with the one reliable source in your life. …  
Throwing his clothes on, he had gotten in the car and attempted to follow him- without being noticeable cause if he just so happened to find him again, well, that wasn’t on him. But now he was in the middle of fuck knows where, standing on a river bank.  
There was no one around for-  
“Klaus!?”  
“Klaus!!” He roared at the free falling body of his brother, heading straight for the water. Diego froze as he sunk, brain not completely catching up with him. Fight, flight or freeze. You wanna be there for him don’t you?  
Diego stripped back down to his boxers, and jumped into the water. The water was deep, and Klaus was at the other end of the river, but he could make it. It was just like he’d been practicing.  
Diego swam as fast he could. (Relatively fast, although slower with the waterproof flashlight he had in his hand) The river was a murky green and felt more like sludge than water- and what the fuck was up with all this litter- until he saw the unconscious body of Klaus. He was near riverbed- Diego frantically flailed in attempt to go faster.  
He had found out, as a result of multiple sticky situations, he could hold his breath for a rather extraordinary length of time. Klaus couldn’t though.  
He grabbed his body, pushing in front of him. If the asshole was dead, then he didn’t know what he would do. He couldn’t deal with everyone he was close to leaving him.  
Klaus’ body was much heavier than it was earlier. The water, most likely. Klaus’ body pierced the surface the water, and pulled along to float by a half-submerged Diego. It had been far too long- Klaus was almost definitely dead. Diego wasn’t ready to admit that though. I mean, there was no note or anything. It was probably just a drunk accident.  
He threw his body down into the riverbank- almost immediately crowding over it, searching for a pulse. Nothing. He’s dead. No, he’s not. We just need to get his pulse back. Come on, Klaus…  
He pumped up and down on his chest, turning his head sideways to let the water come out of his airways.  
Klaus vomited over the grass next to him, water and whatever he’d eaten coming right out.  
“A-Asshole” Klaus spluttered out.  
“I just saved your life.”  
“Oh-h H-hey D-Deigo.”  
A short lived silence transpired between them.  
“R-rather c-cold d-don-don’t you think?”  
Diego pulled out his towels from the car boot- by the looks of them, another thing Klaus had left in the trunk of his car.  
“Here. Take of your wet clothes, you’ll dry faster.” Diego threw them at the now shivering man, the towels landing at his feet.  
“We-Well, I-I cer-certainly won-won’t say no.” He stripped, with a rather large amount of difficulty, down to a pair of strangely coloured underpants. Diego immediately looked away, replacing the embarrassment with discomfort.  
“You’re- you’re not ex-exactly con-conservative yourself. Can-Can I inter-interest you in a ‘2 for 1 mac-macabre sofa throw’?”  
“I’m fine. They’re yours anyway. They were in the back of my trunk. You need to start remembering your shit.”  
“Ye-Yes, sirrr,”  
Diego threw back on his tracksuit throw over and looked over at the shivering fluffy lump that was his brother. He had two options: bring him back to his basement, or leave him here.  
You can’t leave him alone. What if this happens again? You now this wasn’t an accident. You can see it better than anyone else.  
“Come on. Put your clothes in the back and sit in the front.”  
Klaus stayed perfectly still.  
“Well?”  
“I-I don’t seem to be able to move, which mayyyy be a slight hindrance.”  
His legs were probably hurt after a fall like that and he knew his brother was always sensitive to the cold-and he was probably still in shock. He pinched bridge of his nose, a deep sigh coming out of it. And then a sneeze.  
“Oh, dearrrrr brother, don’t tell me you’ve caught cold.”  
“Shut up, Klaus.”  
He walked back towards him and attempted to scoop him up like an overgrown baby, his legs dangling over his arms.  
“Strong.” Klaus commented as he rested his head against Diego’s chest.  
“Yeah well, *achooo* my body is a *achOoo* temple,” Diego finished with a sniffle.  
He awkwardly shoved Klaus into the front seat, twisting his own body at a weird angle. Klaus quickly adjusted his blankets into a more feasible position; around the top of his chest, just under his armpits. He sat cross legged in the chair, exposing his perfectly waxed legs. Diego got in the other side, shot him a perplexed look, and then sat down.  
“You’re stuff’s soaking. You got spares anywhere? I haven’t got anything to do, so.”  
“Well, if you wouldn’t mind dropping me off_”  
“I am not dropping you off. We’re just picking up your stuff, okay? I’m not having you do this again.”  
“Do what again, DD?  
“Don’t call me that.”  
“Call you what?”  
“You know what I mean.”  
“What, DD? It’s perfectly harmless.”  
“Jackass.”  
Klaus smiled, properly, at the small smirk ghosting Diego’s lips, despite his deeply furrowed brow. Diego pulled his gaze away from Klaus, cleared his throat, sneezed some more, and then pretended to adjust the rear view mirror.  
“Well?” impatience crept into his tone.  
“To my apartmenttt!” Klaus cried.  
“Wait- you have an apartment?”  
“What do you think I did with the inheritance money?”  
“What inher- Nevermind. Where is it?”  
“Wellll…”  
Diego pulled up beside a block of mildly run down apartments, all seemingly identical, every other one with a porch. They were grey and dull,  
“Which one’s yours?” Diego asked, scanning the perimeter for a anything remotely…. Klaus-like.  
“Well, that depends…” came the vague response.  
“What do you mean ‘it depends’?”  
“Well, you see, the landlord gave me block reeall cheap cause he said it was haunted and all that.”  
“And?”  
“I mean, it wasn’t, but he certainly believed it. As an avid believer in demons and the like- he was hiring for a exorcist, and well, seemed riiiiight up my street.”  
“Go get your stuff.”  
“Well, what do you want me to bring? How long do you intend to keep me, Diego dearest?”  
“Just… as much as you can, I guess. But necessities ONLY, okay?”  
“If you say so.”  
Klaus pushed open the car door, and swung round to practically jump out the car. He wobbled a bit, but Diego had heating in his car and it did marvels. He approached the abandoned building with hesitation- he was by no means sober, and quite frankly remembering a six digit long number with no correlation to anything ever whatsoever was of extreme difficulty. He head swam just thinking of numbers- math had never been his strong suit. Or any intellectually challenging subject for that matter. He rubbed his head.  
The front lawn was all dead; he didn’t blame it, he wouldn’t want to grow here either. The low steel gate was almost fully unhinged and squeaked like a fucking mouse. The gate was actually attached to a crumbling wall of brick, almost equally as low as the gate. It went around the full premises of the block of flats and despite its size housed several detailed pieces of art Klaus’ had photographed. Somewhere. The numbers! He had spray painted the numbers onto the wall.  
He walked around to the far right wall around the corner to see a six digit number spray painted onto two dog tags. It wasn’t bad for his first proper piece of ‘street art’ if he did say so himself. He took a minute to attempt to memorise it for the five second walk back to the front door. He waddled back, muttering the number like some form of ritual chant the whole way back.  
“And get changed!” Diego called out as he watched the man go about his business.  
Klaus jammed in the numbers and pushed open the door and began working his way up a flight of steep stairs.  
Diego watched with feigned uninterest. Honestly, he didn’t know this part of town existed. Is this even a part of town? He didn’t know. Either way, he had several conversations to have with Klaus. But right now, he wanted to go home and sleep, cause fuck he was tired. Klaus seemed determined to worm his way into his life; unintentionally, of course. Klaus was fine on his own. Why would he need other people? He can see whoever he wants whenever, regardless of whether they were dead or alive. Not that he ever tried.  
But why though? I don’t know. He doesn’t talk about it. And why’s that? How am I supposed to know? I’d say you do. Yeah, well, you’re you.  
A black outline caught the corner of Diego’s eye. It was Klaus- he was holding… a vest type thing? He couldn’t quite make it out. Either way, it had been long enough. He should be coming back down soon. Maybe next time you’ll show a little more interest in your brother. What? Like, you know, asking to go in? Maybe to have a cup around his? It’s literally a block of haunted apartments that Klaus shammed some superstitious dude into taking of his own hands with both a portion of an inheritance I didn’t know I had and deceit. And? It’s still somewhere to live. He’s making a life for himself.  
His train of though was interrupted by a fully dressed Klaus stepping out of his house with a black duffel bag and a hot pink leopard printed backpack. Like something you’d expect a kid to have- maybe he could get one for Five. He’d love that. He watched in the rear-view mirror as he threw his duffel bag into the trunk; he made a mental note just to go through that. Way to earn his trust. Okay, but what if he’s got drugs or something? Or he’s forgotten something he might need? That’s fair, I suppose.  
Klaus jumped into the front, throwing the backpack into the foot well, resting his feet in top of it. Klaus was wearing a tie died t-shirt, a leather skirt with a cross down the side, similar to his trousers, only much bigger. He had his usual coat thrown over it and pumps with skulls on the side that look like they’d been painted on.  
“Let’s go.” Diego said looking away from his brother, face and tone reading us unimpressed.  
They hit the road, Diego managing to find their way back to somewhere he knew. Klaus had been silent the entire time.  
“So where do you get your clothes?” Diego spoke up. Yes, because that is the relevant question to the situation. The real big problem. No, look, I just don’t want him to feel like he’s being interrogated. Isn’t that an interrogation technique? Never said he wasn’t actually being interrogated.  
Klaus was unresponsive to Diego’s random question. His head was leant against the car window. It was raining now, and street was pretty much empty. They hit a red light- Diego drummed his fingers against the wheel. He didn’t know why there was a red light- probably a busted traffic light. Either way, he now had Klaus’ attention. He’s looking at you like you’re an idiot, Diego heard himself think. “So…” Diego eyes travelled around the car.  
“You’re quiet.” Diego finished.  
“I’m tired.” Klaus supplied, clearly somewhat lying.  
“Uh-huh, wanna tell me what else is going on?”  
Klaus went back to silence.  
“Is it that person-“  
“It’s not Dave.”  
“Dave, huh?”  
“Yeah.”  
Diego kicked himself. Not being an arse or losing his temper was harder than he thought. Several moments passed between them.  
Fuck it. “Just talk to me about what’s going on, Klaus.” It was one of those talk-shouts that Klaus hated.  
“Well, why don’t you talk to me, asshole?”  
Diego looked momentarily stunned before collecting himself and attempting to form some sort of reasonable response-  
“Your thigh. Contrary to popular belief, I’m not stupid Diego.”  
Well, sort of.  
“It’s not…” Diego’s voice became weaker .  
“Like that?” Klaus said with far too much knowing in his voice.  
“Look, it’s not got anything to do with you. Just…” Diego’s stomach felt heavy, and a feeling of queasiness running through him.  
“Bruce.”  
“What?”  
“One of my… friends.”  
“Okay…”  
“From rehab.”  
“He beat the shit out of me.” He said after a few beats.  
“You know what, Klaus? This isn’t about you.  
“Well, no, it’s about Bruce”  
“Look, I’ve wasted enough time on you already and I just wanna go home and sleep without having to baby you or listen to another one of high hallucinations.”  
…  
“He was like you.”  
“What do you mean ‘he was like me’?”  
“He was on suicide watch. Still managed to kill himself, though.”  
Klaus ran a finger up the vein of his arm.  
“There was blood everywherrreee.”  
Diego wondered how he had never heard the story before. He probably made it up.

Another wave of silence came. It was long enough for Diego to pull up in the parking lot, and get out. Klaus patted him on the back as he walked past him, stumbling on the way. He attempted to open the trunk, only to realise the trunk, and, obviously the rest of the car, had been locked again. He shot Diego a hazed over pair of confused eyes.  
“I’ll get your stuff. Whilst you’re here, I’m gonna try and keep you as sober as possible.” He walked next to Klaus, letting him move out the way, before opening the trunk and grabbing his duffel bag and slamming the trunk closed.  
“You coming?”  
Diego turned around and marched up to the door, sluggishly followed by a progressively more stoned and exhausted Klaus. Diego dropped the duffel bag onto his desk type workshop with a think, and opened it and began rummaging through.

**Author's Note:**

> Ben isn't in the first few chapters after the prologue on purpose I'm not an idiot I swear. Comments are highly appreciated. Danke!


End file.
